Dedicated to an old friend of mine in need of strength.
A single Rose,
Lies at my toes,
She blooms blood blushing buds,
She's full of life,
Flies high and free,
Yet only few may see
The clandestine of which she keeps,
The horrors which she holds,
This single Rose,
Laid at my toes,
Grips everlasting woes
Her sorrows strength remains untold,
Yet's rivaling her own,
And so revealing all our deck,
We'd ought to let her know
Despite the world of trembling truth,
of suffocating youths,
This friend of mine,
Laid in my heart,
Forever joined by I,
Shall soon enough befriend her foes,
Shall always be my Rose
YOU ARE READING
Florist
PoetryI enjoy writing my own poetry, whether it be of winter, spring, summer, or fall. I like to think it forever carries a piece of my being that I'd like to share with you.
